Collateral Damage
by Sunrise.Ashes
Summary: He was one of the unlucky ones, who lost everything he thought he needed in a matter of months. Leaving is the smartest option, but a desperate cry for help begs him to stay. From deep in his heart, he wonders if he's found something to fight for.
1. An Easy Choice

It was there in the back of his mind. He could feel it like a cold breath on his neck. It was tangling his thoughts together, binding them to irrational emotions. He stared at her face, so calm and serious, wondering when this had happened. When had she turned _against_ him? Was it when he had been staring right at her, or had she gone behind his back? Had she planned this, or did something get in the way of the relationship they were trying to build?

And then he realised that those questions didn't matter. What mattered was that it _had_ happened, and he couldn't stop it. Not now, and not ever.

"You're serious," Adrian said, his tone cutting and cold as he watched her steady gaze. She didn't turn away, no matter how hard he tried to shame her into doing just that. Her mind was set, unrelenting and unchangeable. "You really believe what you're saying."

"Because it's true. We're not a good match. A comfortable match, but not a good one. When you find the girl for you, you'll know. You just _will_. And it isn't me. You shouldn't have to ask why I'm leaving; you should just know and understand it," Rose replied. Her brown eyes were deep and poisonous, the gaze burning straight through his broken one, reaching down into his blood.

"And _accept_ it, I'm guessing." Adrian felt frustrated as she sat there in her seat, calmly breaking his heart into shattered dust. "But if I knew why you were leaving, you wouldn't need to leave. You and me, we _are_ a perfect fit."

"We're not a perfect fit, we just compliment each other. You should know that I don't want to hurt you, but it's inevitable." For the first time since she'd arrived back at the room, she looked sad. A deep sadness that radiated from her to him. She truly believed in what she was saying, and that made this all worse. Anger tore through him, a means to protect himself. "I wish - "

"No, don't bother." Adrian rose from her bed, his strides long and purposeful. He paused when he reached the door. "I don't to hear it. It's all empty. There's nothing meaningful in your comfort. You've destroyed me, Rosemarie Hathaway, and I want you to remember that fact for the rest of your life. Spirit may drive me into insanity, but you're the one that made me race towards that end."

"Adrian - " Rose called out, startled. She spotted what he felt at the same time, her trained eyes observant and fast. He rose a hand to his eyes, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped. Shame coloured his cheeks. He was an Ivashkov, a lord, he did not cry. He especially did not cry in front of Rose. "Adrian - " she repeated, this time in a desperate whisper.

He hadn't cried when his mother had kicked him out of the house. He hadn't cried when his aunt had died. He hadn't cried for years. He'd been above all that, but apparently all it took to undo him was one dhampir. One dhampir who had taken his heart away. She still had it, but she could keep it. He didn't want it anymore. He turned back to the door and yanked it open, letting it slam against the wall. He couldn't stay here, even as he heard her move, cry out his name, and let out a broken sob. He wouldn't stay here a second longer. There was nothing for him here.


	2. Surprised Goodbyes

A cigarette poked out from between his lips as he shifted his kit bag to a different shoulder. His strides were long, taking the distance and making it shorter faster than she could keep up. But she still tried, scrabbling after him, calling out his name. She slipped before she could reach him, tears stinging her eyes as she grazed her hands on the asphalt.

He span around, his mouth falling open so that his cigarette fell out in a spiral of smoke and ash, before becoming crushed under foot. "_Jailbait_?"

"I saw you leaving from my room," she mumbled into the ground, not wanting to look up, afraid he would see her burning cheeks. A cool finger pressed against them anyway, and she stared into his green eyes, which swam with affection. "Why are you leaving?" she asked, sitting up straighter.

Adrian reached out for her hands, and when he pressed his own to them, Jill felt them go from hot to cold and back again. When he removed them, there were no grazes or marks to be found. Jill's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red when she realised that she missed the feel of his hands on hers. He was a Royal, older than her by six years. She had no right to long for him to touch her again.

"Sure, I'm leaving." Adrian stood, helping Jill to her feet carefully, as though she was made of china and could break at the softest touch. "I'm leaving to start anew. Find a fresh start. Meet new, hot girls. Drink the sweetest brandy I can find. Smoke the dirtiest cigarettes I can lay my hands on. All the things that make me Adrian Ivashkov."

"She finally broke you, didn't she?"

Silence fell quickly on both of them, Jill's from chagrin at having spoken out, and Adrian's from shock. Clouds shifted suddenly in that moment, and the sunlight caught streaks of auburn in Jill's hair, making it glisten in the golden glow. She had clasped her hands behind her back, and stood in front of him awkwardly. Adrian found himself smiling at the young girl, and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"I do not get _my_ heart broke, Jailbait, I _break_ hearts. I just thought it was time to move on. I don't want to hang around where I'm not welcome."

The sun moved a little further down the horizon, taking the light with it. In the shadows, Jill looked much older than fifteen. Her face was wise and sad as she took him, and Adrian wondered exactly why he was leaving. She made him want to stay; stay, and look after her. She looked vulnerable, and he remembered the words he had thrown at Rose. Jill was in at the deep end. She didn't know what it meant to be a Royal. Things would be different for her when she returned to St. Vladimir's. Adrian wanted to protect her from that.

"She should never have started what she could never commit to," Jill said quietly. He could have ignored it, if he wanted, but the words were so true that they cut. "I know I'm in this for the long haul. Rose should have seen the damage she would do would be permanent. Do you hate her?"

"I don't hate her," Adrian said automatically, and then he considered his words seriously. Did he? He wasn't sure. "Do you?"

"No. She did what was right. This was always going to happen. It _had_ to happen. It was never just about getting Rose's name cleared. It was about change for the whole of the Moroi/dhampir world. I don't hate her for that. I don't envy Lissa for what she has to do. I just wish I could have had a little longer with normality, or a time to adjust to all of this. That's all I really wish for. A little warning wouldn't have gone amiss," Jill said in one breath.

Adrian allowed himself a heartbeat to recover, before adjusting his bag and turning to the side. "It's easier for you to forgive her. You're going to get everything you could possibly dream of,_your highness_." He stepped away, only for a small, pale hand to reach out and stop him.

"All I want is to spend the rest of my summer at home, instead of at Court. All I want is for five different dhampir guardians to stop following me around, every where I go. All I want is for you to stay at Court, to smile like you used to. Am I going to get every thing I can possibly dream of? Tell me that, Adrian."

His eyes darted to the growing shadows, instantly spotting the guardians she spoke of, watching them intently from a distance in the disconcerting way all dhampirs learnt. He returned his gaze to Jill, who looked small and frightened now she had poured her secrets out. He sighed.

"Probably not, Princess."

"Not _princess_. Jill."

"Probably not, Jill."

They watched each other for a long time. Jill was sure that was the first time he had ever called her by her real name, and something hot and heady swelled in her heart, before it shattered into tiny pieces. Adrian ruffled her hair one last time, wondering what the guardians made of _that_, before he resumed his walk to the gate. He walked at a slower pace, and watched as Jill bobbed along beside him.

"Let me accompany you to the gate, Lord Ivashkov," she said in a pompous voice, and Adrian found a part of him that could still smile.

"It would be a pleasure, Princess Dragomir, for you to accompany me." He offered a hand, and she slipped her fingers between his as they moved towards the rising moon. "I'll write," he said suddenly, unsure of why he was saying this. His plan had involved cutting off contact with _everyone_, even fifteen-year-old princesses. "As soon as I'm settled somewhere, I'll send you a note, letting you know I'm okay."

"Thank you," Jill replied, and the gratitude in her voice made Adrian hesitate. "Can I write back?" she asked, and guilt radiated through Adrian.

"Sure." They had reached the exit, and stood awkwardly again. "I'd like that. Thanks, Jill."

"Anytime," she murmured quietly, her head bowed again her brown curls hung around her face like curtains. "Take care, Adrian. Don't give in."

His green eyes sparkled like jewels in the dying light. "You know something Jailbait," he replied. "I don't think I want them to win. Not anymore. Have fun at school. Don't forget, you're a Royal now. You throw that weight around. See what it gets you."

He saluted her, before turning and nodding to the guardians on post. They watched him in surprise, but let him out of the gate wordlessly. Jill stayed at the edges of Court, watching as he disappeared from view. Her heart felt heavy, and she wasn't sure why. Her thoughts settled on one conclusion.

She had lost one of the only people who could have helped her through this.


	3. Sisterly Advice

"Do you have everything you need, Princess?"

Jill blinked out of her daydream, turning to look at the harried Moroi woman who was currently packing her luggage for school. She sighed, wishing it was her mother doing the packing and not some housekeeper. Her Mom had been rushed away from Court days earlier, rehearsals beckoning her back to their home. Rushed kisses couldn't make the ache in her chest any easier, but Jill shrugged it off.

"I guess so," she replied, hating the way the Moroi woman's eyes followed her around the room. She hated it when people called her _princess_ too, although the only person she had ever corrected had left. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of Adrian Ivashkov, his hair kept messy from the amount of times he ran his hands through it. "I packed everything a few days ago, ready for my flight tomorrow. You don't have to check for me, Mrs Harrison."

The Moroi shook her head, and Jill knew what she was thinking. _Why doesn't she act like a proper Royal? Why does she do all her dirty work for herself? She'll never be as good as Vasilisa. _The thoughts shone in her eyes, and Jill ducked away into the bathroom. She wondered if the woman would follow her there too. Everyone seemed to be following her, watching to see if she would fall. It was all a matter of time.

"Princess Dragomir?" the Moroi knocked at the bathroom door, just as persistent as Jill feared she would be. "What about this letter? Do you want to take it with you?"

Panic surged in Jill as she yanked the door open with such force the Moroi woman stumbled inwards. Her eyes landed on the dirty piece of paper, a little crumpled from the amount of times she had reread it. Her hand reached out and snatched it up, and she pressed it to her chest. The old woman's eyes followed hers, and Jill felt her chest rise and fall in quick bursts.

"I didn't read it, Princess."

"Don't call me princess," Jill retaliated, taking strength from the scrawled note. She crushed it a little, tucking it inside her front pocket. "I'm still Jill. Don't call me princess. Or Dragomir," she said with an afterthought, her eyes clouded as she looked into the distance.

"As you wish, Jill."

The old woman watched her with a sadness that Jill couldn't see, before she turned and left the room. When the door clicked shut behind her, Jill took the letter from her pocket and smoothed it out carefully. It had arrived the day before in a blue envelope, the word _Jailbait_ scrawled across it in elaborate handwriting. It had made her smile, seeing it on her bedside waiting for her, and she had read it many times since then.

She looked down at it, reading the words affectionately as she imagined the freedom that Adrian must have been feeling. She longed for the same sense of control, but instead she felt suffocated, all her decisions made by other people. She thought of the housekeeper again, of the way she obeyed her wishes not out of kindness or mutuality, but out of respect for someone superior. If there was one thing Jill didn't feel, it was superior.

There was a knock at the door, and Jill jumped, leaping from her bed as the door handle began to turn. She replaced the note in her jean pocket, and nervously waited for whoever it was to enter. She had a pretty good idea who it was, and sure enough, Vasilisa Dragomir graced the room with her presence. Rosemarie Hathaway ghosted her, silent and watchful, clearly on duty.

"Jill," Lissa said, her eyes tired and weary as she seated herself in one of the room's chairs. "I thought I'd come and see you, before you leave for St. Vladimir's tomorrow."

Tension crackled in the air between the two sisters. Jill didn't know what to say. She had always felt awkward around Lissa and Rose. They were celebrities amongst celebrities, the elite and the professional. Having the same blood run in their veins - or at least half of the same blood - didn't change things. At least, not automatically.

"Thank you," Jill managed to stutter out, falling back down onto her bed. "You didn't have to come and see me. I hear you're being kept busy at the moment. You should have used the time to rest, or get some moments to yourself."

"These are my moments to myself. I'm seeing my," Lissa paused, the word lodged in her throat. "_Sister_," she whispered. A tortured expression appeared on her face, before she wiped her expression clean, but it was too late. Jill had seen. Guilt rose inside of her as she wrung her hands together. "We're family, Jill, and I want to make sure your sophomore year is comfortable for you. It's going to be _a lot_ different. Things have changed for you now."

Jill knew that. Every day was another reminder, something new forcing its way into her life. Like having people do her packing for her. Before, it had always been a task made fun by her mother's company. They would joke and laugh, picking out outfits and clothes that made Jill feel pretty, giggling at the ones she had outgrown. Now, someone else was giving her appropriate clothing for a Royal, bustling off with her suitcases, which were sent on ahead of her.

"How will I know who really wants to be my friend and who wants to get in with the Queen's sister?" Jill suddenly asked, the words slipping between her lips before she had a chance to stop them. It was a fear that had been plaguing her for a while.

Lissa looked surprised, her eyes resting briefly on Rose, who continued to look ahead. "I guess you'll have the friends you've always had," she said softly. "They'll stand by your side, take you through the ups and downs, give you all the support you'll need in school. Just remember you don't have to play the Royal game if you don't want to. I didn't."

_But it got you in the end_, Jill thought sadly, _just look at you now_.

"Thank you," Jill repeated, playing with the frayed edges of her old jumper.

"Don't worry Jill, you won't be alone. Christian and Eddie will be going with you to the school." Pain radiated from Lissa's face, although she tried hard to hide it. "Christian is going to be teaching a new module at St. Vladimir's. Defensive Magic. Eddie is going to be your guardian, so to speak. He's going to keep an eye out for you, while teaching the dhampirs and Moroi students hand to hand fighting. You'll find your way."

Jill's face had lit up when she heard that Christian was going to the Academy with her. Lissa didn't look very happy, and sympathy settled in her chest. "He'll get better," Jill murmured, her eyes briefly moving to Rose, who had stiffened at the mention of Christian. "He just needs time away from politics to get over this."

"I know," Lissa said in a strained voice. "It's just hard for me too. I'm afraid he won't forgive me for outing his aunt as a murderess."

In that moment, Jill realised how hard things were for Lissa too. She had taken on the role of Queen, which she was still adapting to. Someone she had considered family had turned out to be a murderer with a vendetta against her best friend, and her boyfriend was trying to relearn who he was and who he had been raised by. Jill rose from her bed and put an awkward arm around Lissa's shoulders.

The two sisters shared a silent, brief hug. "Things will get easier with time," Jill whispered into Lissa's ear. "We just have to wait it out."

"I hope so," Lissa replied, sounding a lot like the unexperienced eighteen-year-old she was. "I really hope so."

Lissa rose from her seat, her face stoic and perfect once more as she left the room. Before she followed her, Rose turned and gave Jill a friendly smile. Jill remembered the broken look in Adrian's eyes, and try as she might, couldn't bring herself to return the smile. She waved instead, wondering what Rose saw when she looked at her.

Without another word, the Royal escort of guardians left Jill's room, leaving her alone again. _Almost_ alone. A female guardian shifted position in the corner of her room, reminding Jill that she was never completely alone, even when she wanted to be.


	4. Ink & Paper

One more can balanced precariously on the pyramid in the centre of the sitting room. Adrian smiled drunkenly, proud of his accomplishment. It had taken him one afternoon to make that masterpiece. He reached for another can of beer - not his favourite liquor, but it was cheap and his mother had cut him off - cracked it open, and leant deeper into the sagging sofa. He casually flicked through the cable channels, stopping on some gambling programme.

Laughter outside the apartment door caused him to tear his eyes away from the TV. His roommate was back, and Adrian wasn't ready to face anyone. He rose from the sofa, swaying on his feet as the room suddenly span in large circles. He lurched forwards, desperate to get to his room.

The front door swung open and his roommate, Dan, froze as he took in the messes, both Adrian and the room. He had a girl with him, all blond hair and tanned limbs, who looked startled at the sight of Adrian.

"Hey, you alright man?" Dan asked, stepping forward. _Stupid human, with a stupid girl, and a stupid, normal life_. Adrian nodded, trying to make his feet work as he moved towards his room. He stumbled instead, the can spinning from his fingers and into the pyramid, knocking every single one onto the floor. The stereotypical bimbo squealed, and Adrian cursed from the floor. "You need help getting to your room?" Dan asked, offering a hand to help Adrian up.

"Sure. Why don't you tuck me in while you're at it, and give me a nighttime kiss?" Adrian picked himself up from the floor. A buzzing sound pressed inside his skull, and the beginnings of a headache stirred. "I can manage. Why don't you check on your Barbie doll instead? Check she isn't breaking your heart while your back's turned."

Dan scowled at Adrian. "There's no need to take your problems out on Clare. Here, this is for you." Dan thrust a crisp, white envelope under Adrian's nose. The Moroi took it warily, recognising the handwriting on the front. He had been waiting for this letter, knowing it was the beginning of a problem. He was going to have to put an end to Jill's correspondence, so she wouldn't get hurt in the long run.

"Thanks," Adrian muttered under his breath, feeling a little bad that he had snapped at Dan in the first place. "See you tomorrow," he added, managing to stagger into his bedroom. Before the door had even slammed shut, Adrian had torn the envelope open. Jill's neat handwriting stared up at him innocently.

_Adrian_, it began, _I'm glad to hear that you've found somewhere to stay, although I wish you hadn't left Court. I don't feel like you're very safe, without the protection of Court_.

Adrian smiled at Jill's concern, touched that someone had bothered to think about him at all. He wondered where she was now, and what she was doing. Adrian was pretty sure that the new academic year at St Vlad's had started, but he couldn't be sure. He'd lost track of time recently, but he knew it was still summer vacation for humans. Vampire school years normally started earlier, and finished later. He returned to the letter, curious.

_I'm leaving for school tomorrow. Someone else is packing my bags, two dhampirs are guarding my room, even though I'm inside the wards, and Lissa keeps giving me "talks" on what my life will be like now. I think I know better than her how much it's changed, but I appreciate the effort. Things are still really awkward and tense around us. She only talks to me when Rose is available as a buffer._

A glare appeared on Adrian's face at the mention of Rose, but he ignored the flinch and allowed his thoughts to rest on Lissa and the changes she was beginning to unleash on the Moroi and dhampir world alike. She had removed the age decree, and introduced new modules to the curriculum of five tester schools, St Vladimir's being one. They were going to see how well teaching younger Moroi students to fight worked out, before introducing it worldwide. Or so Adrian had heard. He'd cut himself off from politics shortly after that.

_I feel like we're making slow progress, though. She needs me. Well, she needs someone to help her out. She's clearly drowning under all these changes, and I don't think anyone is noticing. Not even Rose. I guess I can see it, because I'm going through the same thing. She's still hurting over Tasha's betrayal, and she wants Christian back, but he needs his own space. He's going to be there at Vlad's when I go back, which is a relief_ ...

Adrian paused. Christian wasn't staying with Lissa, he was leaving her to go back to St Vladimir's. He was surprised. There was another person leaving Court, to get away from the Hell that politics brought to the world.

... _but I know that it upsets Lissa. Things were just beginning to get better between them, I heard, and now he's leaving her again. I think Lissa's in a bad place, and maybe someone close to her needs to keep an eye on her. Anyway, I have to end this note now. I'm supposed to be going to a party in an hour, and I haven't even begun to get ready. I'm nervous, to be honest, and not sure if I can do this yet, but it's been thrown for me, so I have to show._

_I hope you're happy, wherever you are, and I hope you're keeping safe. That means no alcohol!_

A wry smile appeared on Adrian's face as he took in the empty bottles of vodka littering his floor.

_Or cigarettes, or anything that will cause you pain. Use your freedom to have a fresh start, and go do those things you've always wanted to do, but never could._

_Love, Jill_

The letter drifted to the floor gently as Adrian let go of it, resting his hand against the wall tiredly. The buzz of the alcohol was beginning to wear off, and he could feel the tendrils of spirit's darkness stir in the bottom of his chest. Pain throbbed through his head, and he rubbed his temples wearily as he drew his legs into bed. _I hope you're happy_. How could he be happy? He was cut off from everything he cared about. He had _lost_ everything he cared about. His world had shattered, and he couldn't piece it together again.

_I hope you're keeping safe_. Well, drinking himself to an early grave wasn't exactly keeping safe. Neither was living in the middle of student central. He had been thinking about going back to college, but the words Jill had written kept burning in his mind, reminding him of what he had left behind. Of what he could go back to if he really wanted. _Love, Jill_. That girl. Quiet and unassuming, thrown to the wolves. Could he really carry on dismantling his life, when hers was being destroyed for her? When he could do something about it?

Heat flared in his chest, right where his heart pounded, and Adrian remembered why he had run away. He couldn't go back. Not yet. Maybe ever. But that didn't mean he had to cut himself off from them completely. He could continue to write, couldn't he? He looked back down at Jill's letter, at the desperation that rang out to him, even through the ink and paper. All she needed was a confident. He could be that person.

Adrian rose from his bed, kicking aside the bottles, wrappers and magazines until he reached the desk. He pulled two pieces of paper to him, one a form and the other a blank, lined sheet. He switched his stereo on, letting the song blare out as he started to scribble on the form first, and then the lined paper.

Seconds later, both were folded into separate envelopes, one with _Jill_ scrawled across it.


	5. Royal Changes

Jill blinked in the bright light, staring at the impassive front gates of St Vladimir's Academy. The sunset looked beautiful, but it was beginning to hurt, her skin flushed wherever the light touched. She rubbed her arms, trying to soothe and cool herself at the same time. She knew she was here early - Lissa had expressed her concern about Jill's arrival, and expressly stated that the younger Dragomir should be allowed in earlier than the other students - but she still felt nervous, like there were eyes on her wherever she went.

She remembered the guardians behind her, figuring the sensation was down to the presence they wielded in her mind.

"Princess Jillian Mastrano-Dragomir. So nice to see you again," Headmistress Kirova was saying to her. Jill was pretty sure that the headmistress had never spoken to her before, so it was highly unlikely that she thought it was _nice_ to see her again. "We have made arrangements for you to change rooms and roommates, so that - "

"I don't want to change roommates," Jill said quickly, ducking her gaze when Kirova turned on her. Speaking to the ground, she continued. "I was happy sharing a room with Alexa. She's my best friend, and I wouldn't be comfortable changing again. I mean, so soon. I just want things to be the same."

Kirova's expression turned sympathetic. "I understand Princess, I just thought you would be more comfortable sharing with another Royal. Someone who could show you the ropes, what it means to have a name to carry. We picked out a suitable Royal too: Lily Tarus. We were going to ease you in - "

Jill snorted, turning bright pink when Kirova steadily gazed at her disapprovingly. "The time for, uh, _easing in_ has, you know, passed," she stammered, faltering under the stern gaze. "It's been a few weeks now. I know what's expected of me. I know what people expect I'll _do_. Crash and burn. They're all watching and waiting for the Dragomir name to be smeared again. All I want is to be normal, and not give them reason to talk. I don't want to shame Queen Vasilisa. Don't force me to be a person I'm not. Please."

Kirova sighed, and started to walk towards the Moroi dormitories in the distance. "As you wish, Princess Dragomir. You can keep your current room and roommate, Alexandra Matthews. I'll arrange for your things to be moved back into that room. For now, I suggest you get re-orientated with St Vladimir's. You'll find it's a different place when you're Royal, and it may be in your best interests if you get most of the gossip and looks out of the way now."

Jill kept herself hunched up and small as she walked alongside Kirova, nodding wherever appropriate, although her thoughts were a million miles away. The older woman listed all the expectations of Royal conduct at St Vladimir's, all the modules that Royals were expected to take in preparation for when they left the Academy and attended to politics proper. The words seeped in through her internal humming, infecting her with fears and worries.

Royal students were not, under _any_ circumstances, to take a defensive module like the other _common_ Moroi. Oh no. Royals would always be assigned guardians, so there was no need for them to take up the new modules that Queen Vasilisa had instructed be taught at the Academy, which, Kirova added, was an honour. No, Jill would do something nice and safe, like cookery or art. Something respectable, for when she marry a prestigious Moroi upon graduation.

Jill wanted to retch by the end of the long walk. Her skin still itched from the exposure to the sun, and she wanted nothing more than to her go to her room and bury herself in a good book. She rubbed her hands on her arms more vigorously, replying quietly at the appropriate times as Kirova attempted to mold her into the perfect example of a Royal. Her mood became more and more desperate as the talk became longer and longer, never seeming likely to end. Eventually, the headmistress turned away and told her that someone would be over to show her new courses to her, and explain each to her.

Students lined the lobby of her dormitory, and Jill's heart started to hammer in her chest as different sets of eyes landed on her. Not all of the looks were curious either. Some were disapproving and others were disgusted. Jill felt like she wanted to shrivel up and die, moving through the gathered group as quickly as she could. She weaved in and out, before someone stuck their leg in her path, causing her to tumble to the ground. Humiliated, Jill stared at the floor for a long time, blinking back angry tears. When she had caught her breath, she stood and dusted her jeans down, continuing on her walk.

She kept her head held high the entire time, and although all she wanted to do was sprint down the remainder of the hall, she walked slow and purposeful. Whispers had broken out behind her, and her cheeks continued to grow hotter as she moved. When she had rounded the corner, she let out the breath she had been holding, along with the tears she had fought back.

"They're just jealous you know," came a quiet voice, and Jill gave a start as a tall figure emerged from the shadows. It was someone from her year, a Royal who had never spoken to her before. He had platinum blonde hair, and cool grey eyes that surveyed her warily. "They're jealous at the sudden elevation you've gotten. It's like you've _stolen_ it, or something, when it was your _right_ all along. Not that it matters. Being Royal doesn't matter. Not anymore."

"Are you saying Lissa is going to take away the rights of Royals?" Jill asked haughtily, not liking the boy's tone or attitude. She resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips.

"No. Dhampirs and non-Royal Moroi don't treat Royals with the same regard they used to. Royals don't treat each other like they used to. In fact, being a Royal doesn't make you special. I'm a Royal, and I'm just as invisible as everyone else," he said bitterly. "My family don't care that they're really low down in the Tarus hierarchy. They just like being able to throw their weight around."

"Sounds like it's a good thing you don't get your own way," Jill replied. "You could do with a few lessons in being down to earth."

Jill went to move around the boy, but his hand shot out and gripped her wrist tightly. She let out a surprised cry of pain, twisting to try and get away from him. "It won't take long, you know," he hissed in her ear. "It won't be long until you're acting like all the other Royals do. Designer clothes and haircuts. Make-up and skirts. Expensive perfumes and boy chasing. Hard parties and harder drinking. You'll fall into step. _Everyone_ does. So do yourself a favour and stop acting like you're better than everyone else, like you'll actually be different. Like you're _down to earth_."

A ball of water appeared in the middle of the hallway, seemingly from nowhere, and knocked the boy to the floor. He let go of Jill's wrist, staring up at her in astonishment as his hair hung around his face in wet straggles.

"I won't be like everyone else, because I'm not everyone else."

She moved past him, storming down the hallway, leaving an angry hurricane in her wake as she disappeared further into the building. It wasn't until she finally reached her room that she thought about who she was trying to reassure: the Tarus boy or herself?


	6. Midnight Snack

The night was jet black and Adrian was once again struck by how helpless humanity would be without the wonders of technology. How the darkness would stretch out, leaving them open and vulnerable to enemies and attacks. It was ironic, he later thought, that he should be the one who found himself under attack, penned into a grimy corner as two red-eyed demons swooped in on him.

He had been on his way back from night school, having taking up Creative Writing and Philosophy to fill his time. Easy courses, but course nonetheless. He would have taken Art again, but Adrian hadn't wanted to do anything that would gain too much approval from his parents. Writing was easy, distracting, and Philosophy was fitting for a Royal. Or so his mother would have said. Adrian hadn't joined college for her. He'd done so for someone else, although he would never admit it. He wanted to do something he could be proud of, do something other people would be proud of him for.

Now none of that even mattered, because he was going to die.

"Adrian Ivashkov, you've had a bounty placed on your head by some Strigoi girly who is ever so angry with you," taunted the female. Her hand extended out, swiping quickly down his cheek to leave a trail of blood in its wake that she smeared across her fingers. "A tasty snack you'll be, with your sweet, blue blood," she murmured, licking each finger slowly.

Adrian didn't reply, and for once in his life, words were somehow out of his reach. He felt small and stupid and afraid, but there was nothing he could do. His element was useless in fights like these, and he suddenly wished that he had fire, or air instead. Something that could earn him a little time to break free from the alleyway.

His thoughts were knocked from his head as a blow crashed down on it, sending him hurtling into the asphalt. Black spots danced across his vision, pain pulsing from the spot where the Strigoi had hit him. He reached out for something to grab ahold of, but a foot crashed down on his hand, crushing it until the bones cracked and splintered. Adrian screamed in agony, wishing it would end, wishing everything would just end.

A flare of light caught his attention, and the foot lifted from his hand. Magic tingled through his veins, and the physical pain abated, replaced by an intense emotional agony. Adrian turned onto his back to see what had caused his attackers to leave him.

Two young men stood between the Strigoi, one of them teasingly leaving a trail of flames in the air, the other battling hand-to-hand with the male Strigoi. The female howled in rage, turning to try and race away from the two figures, but was stopped when the taller of Adrian's saviours sprung onto her back. He grinned, baring his fangs manically when he spotted Adrian watching him, before fisting his hand up and throwing it into the Strigoi's face.

She hardly faltered, but the man had already leapt lithely to the ground, flames on each fingertip. He kissed one, before blowing it towards her. It snaked around the Strigoi, leaving her trapped in a large circle. The man entered it, unharmed, and drew a stake from his belt. He twirled it expertly, before starting a dangerous dance with the Strigoi. Adrian turned away, stunned as he took in the second figure, who was now standing over a motionless body. The man tugged a bottle from his pocket, and spilt the contents over the body.

Adrian closed his eyes, sure he was hallucinating or dreaming or something. The second of the men walked over to him, shaking his head when he spotted his partner fighting the female Strigoi in the ring of fire. He offered a hand to Adrian, and he accepted, allowing the man to pull him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" the man asked, and as Adrian studied him, he recognised him as a dhampir. He had a particularly nasty scar across his face, one that tugged the corner of his eye down so it looked like it was drooping. "Your injuries," he added in surprise, giving Adrian a once over.

"I know. I healed myself," Adrian explained, watching as the second Strigoi finally fell to the floor, a stake protruding from her chest. "It's my element. Spirit. Not a whole lot of use when you're attacked in an alley though," Adrian finished, watching as the Moroi joined his partner.

"An Ivashkov," declared the Moroi cheerily. "There are so many of you around, though, that I can't put a name to your face. Mine's Frankie, and I am most definitely not a Royal. Less now than before. I'm a renegade."

"We're both renegades," the dhampir pointed out, turning so Adrian could see the back of his neck. He had no promise mark, his neck instead marked by another scar. "We've left the mainstream life and we live out amongst the humans. We're Trackers. We travel around, hunting down bands of Strigoi. Their numbers have been getting better, not helped by the fact they seem to enjoy co-operating with one another now."

"I'd noticed," Adrian replied dryly, then after a moment, "what really made you leave mainstream society? It can't be about the good of the Moroi, or you'd be with them now."

"You're right. It isn't." The Moroi continued to peer at Adrian curiously. "But you're not there either, so you must have run from it too. What made you leave? I mean, you're an Ivashkov, so your life must have been pretty cushy, and something seriously bad must have chased you from it. Or were you just sick of Moroi sitting on their lazy behinds?"

"Neither. I didn't fit, so I left to live among humans, although that's not working out so well now. It's obvious I'm undefended, and that Strigoi said something about a angry Strigoi putting a hit on me. Do you know anything about it, or did you stumble across these two tonight?" Adrian glanced back to where the female Strigoi had fallen, not surprised in the least that the body had disappeared.

"Tracking. Sorry. We got a call from an Alchemist friend of ours, who said that there'd been a sighting on the college campus. We dropped out Happy Meals and rushed over in time to spot you taking a nasty blow to the head, although you seem to be able to take care of _that_," the dhampir stopped, thoughtful. "Our little Alchemist friend should be here soon if you want to hang about. She might know something ... "

"Your _little _alchemist friend is here, Roger."

Adrian's jaw dropped open as he span around, his second surprise of the night hitting him hard. "_Sydney_?"

"Hey Adrian," the girl replied shyly.


	7. Lose Control

Jill had taken to moving around the Academy as early as possible to avoid the endless stares and whispers. It was an old nuisance now, but it had definitely taken the excitement away from starting at the secondary campus. Instead of hanging and giggling with her friends as they progressed towards the older, cooler stages of teenager, she was trapped in a never ending who's who of Royals and suck-ups. She couldn't take one step in a hallway without someone calling after her.

She also couldn't take one step in any direction without a guardian following her, which was unnerving when she considered the fact she was in school and not in any immediate danger, at least on the surface of matters. If guardians followed her, then someone was worried about her safety and it wasn't an obvious threat.

Jill shivered into her winter coat. It was Fall, but the wind had picked up a bitter edge to it and all students had taken to wearing their winter wardrobe out. Just another thing that Jill failed out. Fashion. Her coat was old, battered and well worn. Her mother had picked it out for her, and she loved it. Yet whenever she shrugged it off in class, judgemental stares would fall on her.

Feeling completely miserable, Jill didn't immediately notice the threat hovering behind her. She wasn't so internalised that she didn't hear the twig crack.

She dove to the floor, scattering fallen leaves into the crisp air as she rolled onto her back, eyes searching for the source of the noise. Focusing with all her might, Jill drew all the water in the air towards her, binding it into a solid sphere. She toyed with it in her hands, shrieking as a hand clamped over her mouth. Her control slipped and the water dropped to the floor.

"I told you to be quiet Franko," an irritated man whispered furiously above her ear. Jill squirmed, desperately trying to remember what Eddie had taught her. She knew magic was out. She need to be calm to cast effectively. The men talking behind her weren't helping either, she panicked more as he heard one mutter, "get the bag."

She was slim, so attackers would always outsize her and Moroi weren't particularly built for fighting. They were fast and light though, but to run or dodge, Jill had to be out of this bind. She wiggled a little, freeing her elbow, before driving it down into her assailant's groin. He groaned and instantly let go, and Jill weaved between the two other men who had looked up at their friend's cry. They stared at her in surprise as tried to race back to the main campus.

A whoosing sound made Jill turn around in time to see a weighted rope tangle around her legs. Desperately Jill lashed out magically, once again feeling the euphoria and thrill of connecting to her element as she created her own lasso out of water. It dangled in front of her precariously for a moment, before snaking towards the men trying to capture her. They paused in shock, evaluating the turn of events. That gave Jill time to disentangle herself and see her pursuers probably for the first time.

They were _dhampirs_.

Not just dhampirs. At least one of them was a school guardian. Jill recognised him instantly as being one of the dhampirs ordered to track her every move. She had believed that she had been giving them the slip, moving freely to her secret training sessions with Christian and Eddie without being seen, but here they were now. And it wasn't as if that guardian was here to put a stop to her activities. He was trying to hurt her, silence her and stash her somewhere. What was going on?

"Ignore the water-snake and grab the Dragomir before she gets to the school," the guardian hissed at his companions. "It's just magic. How can water hurt you?"

Big mistake. Quiet Jill. Shy Jill. Frightened Jill. She disappeared in a flash of fury. The _harmless_ water-snake rose higher in the sky, matching her temperamental emotions. It turned into a fist and slammed into the nearest dhampir, knocking him flying into the trees. The guardian and remaining dhampir stared at the furious Moroi in horror.

"Get away from me," she screamed, and the water broke apart once more as her control slipped. The water crashed down heavily around them all, drenching them. "Stay away from me. Stay away. Stay away," Jill broke too, her voice tapering off as sobs came over.

"Jill!"

Hands wrapped around her shaking frame, and Jill didn't fight it. This wasn't dhampirs trying to take her away. This was Christian. She watched as Eddie gave chase to the dhampirs through watery eyes, shivering violently from the cold.

"This is just the beginning, isn't it?" she whispered in a scared voice. "There will be more people coming to take me away."

"Hush," Christian murmured back gently. "You don't need to worry about that."


End file.
